


Shared Suffering

by Astarael13



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27171163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astarael13/pseuds/Astarael13
Summary: Spoilers!Post Time-Skip.Felix comes to terms with his father's passing and learns of the true horrors of Byleth's powers as she confides in him. Felix struggles with this realization and his passion for his long-time teacher.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius & My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	1. The Icy Pond

She sat there, on the edge of the open pond. The light flickered on the glittering water, lighting her frozen face. She was a vision of stone, eyes a little too wide, mouth a little too hard.  
Why was she here? The world was on fire and she was just sitting here. He felt pain burn in his heart. This was the woman who could save them, who could save him, and she was just sitting there. The hope of the world, empty and dead.  
Just like his father.

He pushed the thought away. The rage in him was determined to stay. It was better this way. Safer this way. Better to focus on whatever was happening with her.

He looked at her for a while longer, seeing her barely breathe. From this angle her expression was cloaked in shadow.  
He had to make her move. He had to see life; even anger reflected at him would be better than this.

“Why are you here?” His knife-like tone surprised even him. He was unable to bury all of his fury, but that quickly left him when he saw her face.

Tears, rolling down her cheeks silently. 

Why was she crying? She was a general, leading hundreds of men and women in daily battles. She was a hero. Almost no one died under her command. She was -his- hero. The perfect example of making sure people -lived- to further their cause. More than that. She was more to him.

“Felix?” Her voice was tired, too empty to be surprised. It almost sounded like she had given... no, he killed the thought there. “I’m so sorry Felix.” He’d heard that before. Everyone had said those words to him today. It was the next words that surprised him more than they should have, purely by the intensity hiding in them.

“I couldn’t save him Felix. I tried. I tried so many times.” Her voice shook. Her face was pure agony, as if she was reliving it over and over. She looked down, her eyes open wide in horror. It was like people were screaming in her mind, her eyes dilating as she shivered.

He had never seen her like this. She was the strongest of all of them. This wasn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t what he needed. But then, he thought, why was she always what he needed?

“What do you mean?” His voice, flat, continued to surprise him. He hadn’t meant to say anything in his shock. He was still processing his teacher, his rock, weeping in front of him. This was the woman who was supposedly chosen by the goddess, not that he believed such a thing anyways. This was a woman he never would have called weak.

She looked stricken, like she realized she had said too much. She swallowed, wiped her face of tears, and turned away. “Nothing. I’m just... I’m sorry. He was a good man, your father.” Her voice was even, like she was calming down. A swift but effective wall slammed down. He saw it happen, the side of her face tighten into the familiar face he knew. But it was too late. Now that he saw it for what it was, a mask, he needed to rip it off again. 

He remembered the countless duels they fought. The joy on her face, the exhilaration. Nothing in his entire life brought him that much joy, direction, purpose... that much life. Who was she? How much of her was real? 

“No. You meant something else. Tell me! What did you mean?!” He was desperate. It was a little shameful, he reflected. But this was his father. The wound of his death was a jagged bleeding tear in reality. What did it matter anymore. He was alone. His brother and his father both died for That Man. And what did they leave him with? Nothing.

Still, he knew that wasn’t true. He would bet anything that his father left him ‘with her’. With his professor. His father wasn’t blind, he would have seen how his son’s eyes softened when he looked at her. Stupid idiot. Damn Rodrigue. Always too smart and too stupid for his own good.

“Felix...” Her voice trailed off as she looked over at him, seeing his face. He was filled with pain, filled with despair. His only remaining family member was torn away from him in the same manner as his brother was. Dying for the crown, dying for the prince. How was Felix supposed to feel cared about, how was he supposed to feel worthy if everyone he had ever loved died for a broken man, a boar who just wanted to gouge the flesh from his enemies?

She knew he must be feeling so alone, as alone as she felt when _her_ father died. As alone as she felt right now. 

But she couldn’t leave him there. She had to try. He was precious to her, all of her students were. She would do anything for them, even suffer their pain over and over as the goddess willed it, whenever she failed. At the same time... she had to share it. This was too much for her. Too much, just too much. 

“Do you really want to know?” There we go. She left him with the choice. Her conscience told her this was an excuse, after all, saying it was his choice was false since she knew he wouldn’t refuse. But she couldn’t help it. It had been so long, suffering this curse alone. Goddess it hurt so bad. Sometimes she wished she was dead. Unfortunately she cared more for her students than her desires. This was it. Make it or break it. Whatever, she told herself, I’ll just die anyways in this war.

“Yes.” The response was quiet, but full of power and knowing. He had seen her staring at tactical battle maps, her body trembling. He had seen her staring down battlefields with a body so rigid, she wasn’t even letting herself breathe.  
He knew she was a brilliant tactician but the odds didn’t line up no matter what way he looked at it. 

More people should had died.

He had known for some time that there was some sort of secret. Nothing else made sense. And it was time he found out. After all, it seemed to be killing her. And he needed to know. Just... for safety, he told himself. Nothing else.

She turned to sit facing him. “If that’s your choice... I won’t hide it any longer. If you choose to leave, I will respect that.” 

He saw how hard that was to say, how much she hoped he would stay. 

He had always been outspoken, whether that be in agreement of her plans or against them. He knew she respected that, but also that it worried her. 

He also knew she cared deeply for everyone. No one could say she didn’t care for her students. What was it to him if she didn’t care more for a certain student who wanted it. It wasn’t her fault. He was just her student.

Idiot, he thought to himself, get it together, this is for answers.

After all, she claimed to be possessed by the goddess. What a damn tall tale.

~~~

“I’ve watched you die.” The words, spoken like a simple fact, slammed into him, more effective than a tidal wave in a tsunami. 

She didn’t pause before adding, “I’ve watched you all die by now. And it’s all my fault.”

The last words trembled; her eyes filled with tears as she blinked them away, determined to let the truth out, even if it was the end of her relationship with Felix. Felix, who was her main escape, her reprieve from the pain... 

She pushed that away and continued angrily, “did you ever think that? That maybe all the praise I’m given is bullshit?! Is worse than meaningless?! Maybe I’m not a tactical genius. Maybe I have killed you all, over and over. But the goddess stopped me, no, MADE me fix it every time. It’s my curse. Call it a blessing. I don’t care.” Her words became rushed, her pain horrifying.

“When I make a mistake Felix...” she looked him straight in the eye, desperate. Desperate for condemnation. Desperate for persecution. Goddess. She was so tired of this.

“When I make a mistake, and believe me, I do make mistakes... someone dies. And the goddess gives me the ‘chance’ to fix it. But she makes me watch their death first. Their last seconds. Their last breath, their last words.” Her eyes filled with tears as her voice became laced with bitterness.

“I know who calls out for their siblings, I know who calls out for their blade and thinks they can keep fighting. I know who dies with hope and who dies with despair. I’ve seen it all Felix. I’ve seen it all, and it won’t stop.” Her eyes filled with haunts of futures denied. “Then I go back. Rewrite time. Redo the order. Try again...and hope no one dies.”

He was stunned. The words “who is she” echoed over and over in his mind. Where was his professor... no, where was his best friend. How could she have hidden this from him.

“So why didn’t you save my father.” His voice echoed over the cold pond. “If you supposedly have all this stupid power, why is he dead.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement filled with pain, with blame, with fear. 

No one should have that kind of power. It was disgusting. Her power, her curse... she had been deciding who lived and who died this whole time. 

“The goddess... she gives me a limited number of tries to fix it, and I can only reverse time so far.” She swallowed, not looking at him. “I ran out Felix. I tried over and over to save him.” She looked at her gloves hands, trembling. “I couldn’t get the blade to stop. I couldn’t get the blood to stop. I c-couldn’t... I tried everything I knew. But I failed. I failed him... And I failed you. I’m so sorry Felix.”

She was a monster. Or worse, a failure.

And she saw his opinion in her eyes. She broke.

“Yes. I am.”

“But... I will die in this war. Don’t worry. I won’t... I won’t make it through Felix.” She was crying again, her eyes splitting the pain into crystallized stars down her cheeks.

She hugged herself. “Tell me what I can do for you Felix. I will do it.” Her voice was serious. It was a plea. But not for forgiveness. It was a plea for an ending. It was a plea for an end.

He figured it out. Thank goddess he did. 

Stupid woman, he thought. Maybe this still was the woman he knew. A stupid idiot who wanted to save everyone, who had to. 

But no one can save everyone. 

It almost killed him, but he trusted her. If she said she had tried everything to save his father, she had. He had lived in awe of her, respected her for too long, to believe she wouldn’t have given everything, even her own life, to save another. Idiot.

She interrupted his thoughts. “Felix, he... he told me to take care of you. His last words. Please, let me respect them.”

He looked at her. There were tears in both of their eyes, though he tried to deny his own. 

“That man was a fool.” He paused, collected himself, and continued.

“But... he knew you. And, Goddess curse it all, he knew me. If he trusted you... for his last stupid wish, I will trust you too.”

The words seemed to echo, carrying a meaning across the pond which meant more than he could understand.

He looked at her, really looked. Her eyes, tired and tear stained, showed a glimmer of hope, a glimmer of the possibility of the future.

“I want you to live.”

The words left his lips without him meaning them to, thinking of her insistence that she would die in the war. He tried again, a more intentional statement.

“I want you to live, idiot.”

She looked up at him then, the pain in her eyes melting to show an expression he was not ready for.

“I see.” She sounded almost contemplative. “I... see.”

He looked at her one more time, and said, “I’ll have to think on the rest though. Get some sleep General. You need it.”

Ignoring the voices in his head that he was feeling that undefinable emotion, that forbidden emotion, he turned around and walked away, clenching his fist to avoid shaking from the revelations of the night. He could try making sense of it all tomorrow. Everything always seems clearer in the day, after a bout of swords practice. He needed the familiarity of routine right now, more than anything.


	2. Coping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers!
> 
> Felix continues to cope with his father's passing and the realization of his professor's powers.

Felix wiped sweat off his brow as he walked to the mess hall. The sun was shining and his swords practice was satisfactory. He had woken up at dawn, as was his custom, before anyone else was awake and trained while the sun rose.

Now following muscle memory, he stepped into the mess hall and was greeted by the sight of everyone present turning in their chairs as they looked at him. This was odd, but he shook it off as his eyes began their usual search of the room. His eyes found his target and he relaxed a minuscule amount. 

There she was, distracted, looking up at that blonde giant Raphael, with a small, hesitant smile on her face. _Raphael could always make her smile,_ Felix thought with a small pang. The man exuded sunshine, something Felix could never hope to achieve. 

As he took another step into the room, the sound hit her ears, and she looked up, her eyes meeting his for the briefest of moments before his knees gave and he hit the floor.

When her eyes met his, filled with fear, hope, and pain, it all came rushing back. How could he have forgotten, for even a moment?

His father was dead. His teacher was a monster. 

His hands shook as he picked himself off the floor, angrily brushing off the hands reaching out to help him - Annette and Marianne who had been eating nearby his minded noted- before he turned on his heel and left. Not fleeing, just... retreating, he told himself.

He slammed his door behind him and sat on his bed for some time, frozen as he tried to cope, tried desperately to control himself. 

A soft knock made his head snap to attention, a growl on his lips. He hated feeling weak, hated feeling foolish, and he was especially defensive after his embarrassing display in the mess hall. _How could I have been so idiotic in public?_ He mused angrily to himself.

“Felix... I got some food for you. I’ll leave it out here for whenever you’re ready. Don’t worry, everyone is giving you some space. We’re all here for you when you want us to be. For now though, please just take some time. Things will get better.” 

The soft, angelic voice was Mercedes'. A stab to his heart told him he was disappointed it was her and not... someone else. 

It was a nice gesture, he knew that, but he couldn’t help himself from an angry “Go away Mercedes! I don’t need your charity.” The last word was bitter and dripping with malice.

He knew she wouldn’t hold it against him, but somehow that made it worse.

If he wasn’t so tired from his practice earlier, he would have wanted to work out in a vain attempt to control his fury. Instead, he retreated farther into his room, into the darkest corner, sliding down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, his arms curled protectively around his knees. 

Why did Rodrigue have to die? Was it a worthy death? Would it have been better for his father to be alive but that boar price be dead? 

The questions ate at him until his practical side stepped in and forced him to open his door, angrily look around for anyone watching, and pull the food inside.

Maybe that prince is a boar but I’m no wild animal, Felix thought to himself as he tore into the food, not unlike an animal himself as he devoured the food.

Unsurprisingly, the food made him feel a little better and he resolved that the best way to begin undoing his embarrassing moment from before was to show up, strong as ever, so it left people’s minds as quickly as possible. 

He straightened his clothes, slicked back his hair, took a deep breath, and opened the door. 

It was still a sunny day, he noted while looking through the windows lining the hallway, though now much closer to the evening, and he didn’t like how wrong the cheerful atmosphere felt now that he remembered all that had happened the previous day. But he tried to shake it off as he strode to the weapons room intending to polish his sword and armor like he normally did at this time. 

Just as he reached the doorway, he saw the professor leaving it. Her eyes met his with surprise and overwhelming guilt, shadowing an incredible amount of pain before she turned heel and left swiftly.

Avoiding me? He wondered, a little hurt and angry. He recalled Mercedes’ statement that people would give him space and wondered if that was it. But, he supposed, it was more likely she felt responsible for his tumble earlier. Whatever. It wasn’t his business and she was a grown woman, she could take care of herself.

He sat down and began cleaning and repairing his weapons and armor. People trickled in and out but they all gave him a wide berth. At one point Annette opened her mouth to say something only to be pulled away and glared at by Mercedes. 

Sylvain walked in calling attention with his fiery red hair and huge grin, slapped him on the back, and made some inappropriate comment equating polishing swords to genitals, to which Felix responded with the usual, “Shut up asshole” and things began to feel a bit more normal. 

~ ~ ~

Things continued in this manner for over a week, with most people avoiding him but a small group treating him like normal, which Felix vastly preferred.

Vexingly, the professor continued to avoid him, rushing away whenever their paths crossed. 

He reasoned that she was likely trying to avoid upsetting him, hell she probably continued blaming herself for his tumble in the mess hall, and it finally had reached a point where he had had enough.

He strode with purpose to her room, intending to set her idiocy straight with some well selected scathing comments, until he caught a glance through the crack in her door, not quite open but not quite closed, of her head in her hands. Her eyes were wide open, visible through the locks of her hair streaming around her face. She looked lost, and as alone as he had been feeling all week. 

He didn’t know what compelled him, whether it was her desolate tortured face or his stupid lonely heart crying for connection, but he swung the door the rest of the way open, strode in, sat down at the chair opposite hers, and grabbed her hands which had hit the desk as she snapped to attention when he walked in.

He looked into her eyes and simply said:

“I’m here.”

“What do... what do you mean?” Her voice wobbled as she looked down, avoiding eye contact and she tried to collect herself, afraid she was giving too much of her ruined soul away.

“I’m here for you Professor.” 

He paused again, as her eyes tentatively met his again, cautious and shadowed, but touched.

“Felix, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be saying that to you.” She said with a soft chuckle.

Felix became hyper aware of their gloved hands touching, a soft heat between them. Quickly he released her hands and sat farther back in the chair. 

“Right.” He said, clearing his throat. “You just... nevermind.” He shook his head.

“Are you okay Felix?” Her voice was earnest, her face tilted slightly as she tried to read his facial expressions. 

“I’m getting by.” 

She knew that was all she would likely get from him. Still, the fact that he was talking to her was progress.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Felix said, remembering why he originally came. He was surprised at how softly it came out considering his fuming temper only moments before stepping into the room. “I’m not a delicate flower you know.”

“Of course, I know that. But, well, you’ve been through a lot. And I certainly didn’t help, I added to that pile.” The guilt he expected to see on her face was replaced by an aching depression. To her, it had become a simple fact. Nothing that could be undone and nothing she expected to be able to fix. He knew she was not asking for forgiveness and not wanting any. It was just a tragedy of her own causing. 

“Sure.” He agreed, tone a little light as he smirked and leaned forward, comfortable in his usual sassy demeanor. “But you were honest with me. And I can tell that’s been eating at your stupid brain for a while now.”

She laughed, weakly, but it was a welcome sound. It made Felix realize exactly how much he had missed her company over the past week. 

“But you need to stop avoiding me Professor. You owe me at least that much.” His smile faded with the statement, showing his seriousness. 

“Of course.” This time she smiled warmly, and it felt to Felix like the sun had risen. “I suppose I do owe you that. I’m sorry Felix.” 

“Whatever.” He dismissed it with a jerk of his head and continued, “Let’s go practice. I’m sure you’ve gotten rusty without me to knock your ass into the dirt.”


	3. The War Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Byleth spar, to the benefit of both. This reprieve is only temporary however, as a new battle looms. Felix takes over Byleth's evening guard duty.

Felix parried her and advanced, the movement a dance accompanying the song in his ears of clashing metal. It was familiar and joyous. He knew that wherever his sword went, it would be met or dodged. He never had to hold back with her. It was a rush of adrenaline, of blood, and he never wanted it to end.

They always drew an audience when they fought during normal practice hours but the sun was setting now and most people had gone to bed. He preferred it this way, where he didn’t have to worry about anyone judging him. He could let his bloodlust show, a big crooked grin accompanied by wide eyes, alight with desire. 

No, he was not a boar like the idiot prince. He would never let this side of him out with anyone else. He could control himself. No one else would be able to take the savage change to his fighting style. No one else would mirror the darkness in his face but her. 

Her hair was tied back but blowing in the breeze of her movements. Her sword hit his with a CLANG and his shoulder ached with the pain of stopping such force and he _loved_ it. This is what life is supposed to be like, he thought as he jumped back out of reach of her follow up attack. Full of joy, lust, and the desire to live. The opposite of a battlefield.

He saw his chance and lunged for it, flipping his sword under hers and yanking it out of her grip as he shoulder-checked her, causing her to indeed fall on her ass in the dirt. 

This was surprising, since usually she beat him. 

“Did you get rusty or did you get distracted?” He teased, taunting her as he reached out a hand to help her up.

She gripped his hand and allowed him to pull her up, slipping a touch closer for what felt like almost an embrace to Felix.

He flushed and she said quietly, “Distracted. Thank you Felix.” She released his hand and turned around, moving to retrieve her sword from where it lay.

 _Thanks for what exactly?_ He thought, confused and a little distracted himself, desperately trying to control his face and not think about the feeling of her body so close to his.

“See you tomorrow Felix. I won’t run away again.” She turned around and smiled at him, the moon illuminating a teasing spark in her eye.

He shook his head and walked to his room, idly massaging his shoulder where she landed a particularly hard blow. He let the shadows hide his smile and his relief.

~ ~ ~

He woke up to sounds of movement outside. Getting dressed fast, he tied his sword belt on and ran outside.

Dorothea greeted him, her beautiful green eyes somber, the depression dripping into her voice. “We got word. The enemy is moving forces. We’re riding out to meet them today.” 

The news was no shock, but it was still unwelcome. He returned to his room to pack his things, grabbing a few extra clothes, some notebooks, and then his eyes lit on a small dagger. His father had given it to him, he recalled, on a cold midsummer’s night. Rodriguez’s face had been open and kind, telling Felix this dagger would fit well with the sword he already had. It was one of the moments Felix could point to and see that his father cared about him. He knew Rodrigue had only given him that dagger because he loved his son and he knew his son liked weaponry. He was reaching out and Felix had brushed him aside, not wanting anything to do with him.

Felix regretted that now, and the memory hurt him. His thumb caressed the hilt, embossed with their family emblem. He gripped it in his hand and noted the perfect fit in his palm, the perfect balance. A small sad smile pulled his lips as he tied it onto his belt.

He grabbed the rest of his luggage and walked outside to join the caravan of tired soldiers. 

~ ~ ~

They set up camp near a small river, using the clean water to refresh their horses as they pitched tents. 

He walked by Raphael arguing with a soldier. Picking up pieces of the conversation as he eavesdropped, it seemed that Raphael wanted to guard the Professor instead of the usual guard. 

“She needs someone to tell her to eat! Have you noticed she’s wasting away? You look like you could use a good meal too!” 

The soldier was clearly unused to arguing with his higher-ups, even if they were common-born, and was floundering for a response. Clearly the man wouldn’t have the guts to push the Professor to take care of herself, something she clearly needed since she spent all her time worrying about others.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” Felix said to Raphael, dismissively as he stepped in. To his credit, the big man took one look at Felix’s face, shook his head, smiled, and left.

“Listen here you.” Felix sneered to the poor soldier. “If you can’t push that woman to take goddamn care of herself you might as well let one of us take the shift. There is more to guard duty than protecting your charge from outside threats.” Felix loomed over the man, his relatively short stature doing nothing to diminish the effect.

“As the heir to the Fraldarious house, I order you to relinquish your post to me.” The solider trembled as he nodded his head and fled.

Sighing, Felix walked to the Professor’s tent.

~ ~ ~

He rapped on the outside of the tent, noting that the lamp was still on inside, shining through the canvas fabric. “Professor?”

There was no answer for a few moments, before a small voice inquired, “Felix?” 

He took the invitation and pulled aside the tent flap, taking in the image of her tired eyes and light green hair strewn over a large battle map. It was clear she had not eaten or slept in an acceptable amount of time. He thought about her revelation to him, over a week ago now, that the goddess tormented her with visions of the possible dead and his heart clenched. She looked so tired, so defeated.

He channeled his worry into anger, as he always did. 

“When is the last time you ate, you fucking idiot?” His voice was harsh and furious but his hands were gentle as he located a plate left by a servant, obviously hours ago, laden with food meant for dinner. “Eat!”

She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unspent tears. “I know, I’m a fool.” She chuckled darkly, giving in easily in her exhausted state. She reached for a piece of fruit and bit into it. He noticed she almost immediately perked up. She loved fruit, he remembered, and he subtly turned the platter to have the fruit closest within her arm’s reach.

“You should probably sleep soon too.” He stated softly, but with just enough edge that he could always claim he didn’t care. It was much safer that way.

She chuckled, again darkly, and murmured, “as always, you are right. But I need to finish out this battle strategy. I’ll get some rest soon.” 

“You’d better mean it.” His voice threatened backlash if she failed, but they both knew it was an empty threat. Yet her lips perked up, almost into a smile, and he turned and left the tent content, a small smile playing on his lips as well. Taking over as her guard afforded him significant power, he reflected, and he enjoyed the chance to be close to her. For no reason other than helping his general, of course, he reasoned with himself. 

The night was chilly but his heart was warm as he stood outside her tent, watching her lamp go out a few hours after he had harassed her. Peace flooded into his veins as she rested. Taking up her guard duty seemed to do him as much good as it did her.


	4. A New Guard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix sees the cost of her work as a general up close.

4

Felix got sleep of his own after the second night guard came to relieve him. The man seemed surprised to see him, or perhaps surprised to see the general’s light off, but either way, he replaced Felix without a word.

~ ~ ~

A few days passed like this, traveling on the road, checking on his new charge every night. In the privacy of her tent, under his watchful eye, she was a mess. He didn’t like using that word to describe her, but it was true. Her eyes became lightly bloodshot, despite Felix’s best effort to push her into sleep. Her hands were chapped from all the dusty maps, bleeding in the small webbing between her fingers ( _I must buy her some light gloves_ , Felix thought to himself). Her hair was kept pulled back as she worked, so it escaped enough to be striking when she let it down, not unlike a lion’s mane. 

And let it down she did, when she played the crucial role of morale boosting or order giving. In those instances he saw the woman everyone needed. 

Her bloodshot eyes brightened with courage, so the damage was not noticeable. Her riding gloves seemed to boast her readiness to ride out and fight at a moments notice, and not to hide small spasms of pain. 

Her voice would ring true, not hoarse as it was in the evenings under the swaying lantern. Her language was a decisive trust, resting on and bolstering her people’s faith that this war, though horrid and against previous friends and allies, was necessary and a means to an end.

In some ways, Felix mused, she was the goddess incarnate to everyone else. With his voice gone from the opposition, no one dared publicly doubt her. Behind her stirring speeches, she was backed by every noble house from the Blue Lions and Golden Deer houses. Over two-thirds of the country’s leaders would support her without question, without doubt. And to any average person, she bore this weight with grace and strength. But Felix knew now, behind that imposing figure, was a person suffering.

Someone who was just fulfilling their role. Signing their name on what Fate determined. 

Late one night, as her hand brushed away sweat from her forehead despite the cool night, he mustered the guts to ask her.

“Why do you do this? It’s clear this is hurting you. Why do you choose to suffer?”

Her head rose to meet his, calmly, as if this was a throwaway question. Her mouth quirked into a small smile and suddenly he felt as if he was back in a lecture hall, as if it was 5 years ago.

“This is the right thing to do Felix.” She lifted her wrists and looked at them, and suddenly Felix could almost see the outlines of chains, weighing down her arms.

“What else could I do? Here I am helping people more than hurting them. This is what I was dealt and this is my best way of playing the hand.” Her left hand closed around her right wrist, right where a cuff link would have been. She rubbed her wrist absent-mindedly, as if the cuff was real. In a way, Felix thought, the cuff _was_ real to her. 

“Don’t you think you get a say in your destiny though? Is this where you are happiest?!” He pushed. He couldn’t stand to see her suffering. It continued cutting at him. The more he saw, like trying to polish a poisonous sword, the more it poisoned him too.

She froze in shock. Blood drained from her face, as if this thought had never occurred to her. “Happy...?”

So suddenly it made him grip his sword handle, she laughed.

“You continue to surprise me. I’ve never thought about it. I don’t think people like me get to think about something like that.” She appeared bemused, stuck on the thought.

“Happy huh?... The last time I felt happy was...” Her eyes flicked up to his and quickly looked away, clearly uncomfortable with something. He wondered if her mind went to what his mind did, the exhilaration of their sparring, the rush at their naked swords crossed savagely, with no holding back.

“Anyways, this is what I have to do. Once I’m done...” She cleared her throat, and he thought back to when she said she would die in the war.

“I thought we’d been through this Professor.” He grumbled darkly. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Not without me anyways.” He added quietly, mostly hoping she wouldn’t hear.

“Of course!” She lied brightly, but obviously, changing the subject. “Would you mind grabbing me the scroll on swamplands over there?” And just like that, the conversation was over.

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still a work in progress. Thanks for all the support, this is still surreal to me as my first fanfic. Thank you all!


	5. Camp on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix wakes to the camp under attack and he cannot find the Professor.

5

Light flashed in front of Felix’s eyelids, waking him. Smoke and screams flooded into him as he shot out of bed, hands on his sword before his brain had caught up.

 _An attack at the camp._ He thought to himself, forcing himself to breathe. They had all trained for this, the Professor waking them randomly for drills (clearly stating they were drills over and over) until they reliably remembered to group together and fight towards the center to minimize friendly fire and casualties.

This time, no one was calling out that it was a drill.

Despite all the training, fear crept into him. _Is she safe?_ He took one more breath and forced icy resolve instead of panic into his veins instead. 

Flinging open his tent flap, his eyes were pulled to the corpse of a maid servant cut in half, blood still trickling over a maroon gown, almost disguised in the dark red. It must have been her scream that woke him, he realized, her face frozen in a look of pain and shock. He felt sick, again forcing that aside to focus on what he could do. She was beyond his help. _Freya._ He remembered her name as he raised his sword and called “To me! To me!” 

Some servants with military grade daggers (she always insisted everyone was armed) seemed to appear out of nowhere, as if they were hiding and waiting for leadership or a trained soldier to lead them to safety. 

_About four or five._ He thought to himself. Not many, but it would have to be enough. He had to find her. It was only due to his respect for her that he followed her instructions now instead of running immediately to her tent to see if she was okay. 

The camp was in disarray but he could see some other nobles leading people towards the center of camp as well. Tents were ripped open, fires were burning, and magic was flashing bright colors as people fought desperately on both sides. It only served to embolden Felix’s fury. This was not a battlefield. There were innocents here, cooks, nurses, farm hands. _Emperor Edelgard, you have a lot to answer for, on a continually growing list._ He thought to himself bitterly.

A soldier in Edelgard’s house colors jumped into his path with an arcing sword blow. He parried it impatiently and gutted the man, the blood flecking over his face and clothes. He didn’t think about the life he just ended. He moved forward, a focused force of passion, of fury. 

After a second he realized no one was following him. He turned to glare at the hesitating servants he was trying to lead to safety. 

What they saw looking back at them were eyes filled with battle craze, a face covered in blood framed with loose flowing hair as dark as the night. Red stood out starkly against his blue and white bedclothes, his pale chest moving with ragged breaths as his hand shook slightly with impatience. If Felix could have heard their thoughts he would have been shaken. The only thing they could compare the man in front of them to was a bloody beast. 

The vision was broken with Felix’s gutteral “Come on! I’m _helping_ you dammit.” 

The servants collectively decided that if he was aware enough to talk, he was probably still their best bet at surviving this horror.

After a few more soldiers dared to face him, he reached the group of nobles and servants already gathered together in a circle, servants and other non-combatants in the center, mages in the next ring defending against aerial attacks and lobbying ranged attacks of their own, and finally the nobles who had more than just magic at their disposal. He felt himself relax just a fraction at seeing so many familiar faces safe. 

A small path cleared for his charges to run into the center. Once the loop closed again, he turned and looked dead in the eyes of the nearest noble (who he noticed with relief was Ingrid, her blond hair frazzled and a cut dripping slowly from her cheek to her chin but otherwise unharmed.)

“Where is she.” He didn’t feel the need to explain who he meant.

Ingrid raised her shield against a fireball lobbed towards them and shouted back at him somewhat exacerbated, “Who- you mean the Professor?”

His already non-existent patience was thrown aside with a brutal snarl, “Of COURSE!”

Her light green eyes widened with fear, her lips in a grimace from either pain or panic, he couldn’t tell.  
“I don’t know! I thought she would be with you!”

The panic he had been holding at bay broke through his ice dam. _No. She must be fine._ He tried to reassure himself, anything to keep focus, but it was a waste of effort. He had to see her. His mind raced. It would have been her top priority to lead people to safety, to hold the line and call the rallying cry from the center of camp. She would know that her voice would bolster resolve and calm people, that she would be the best to effectively call defense plans as the battle shifted.

The fact that she wasn’t here means that something else took priority. That or...

He stopped the thought reflexively. He had to find her.

His head snapped towards the front, looking for an opening. There! A young soldier stepped aside, pursuing a strategic retreat from Hilda. He was moving before Ingrid’s startled “Stop!” even registered.

Where was she.

Logically he knew it was unlikely that she would be at her tent but his heart led him there anyways.

A tattered scrap was all that remained where the tent flap should have been. Blood splatter covered the ground. A lock of light green hair lay on the desk, presumably cut off during a struggle, causing his breath to hitch in a panic. But there was no body inside. He ran outside, looking around for anything, ANYTHING that could lead him to her. Visions of her body cut to ribbons, her face filled with fear and exhaustion shook through him. 

He rushed to the trees behind her tent, focused only on finding her, all thoughts of the battle erased from his mind. 

So much so that the impact took him completely by surprise.

~ ~ ~

His vision tilted, leaves seeming to rise in front of him until he realized with cold shock that he must be falling. _MOVE! DO SOMETHING! ANYTHING!_ His brain screamed at his body, helplessly frozen. 

As his body refused to cooperate, his adrenaline-fueled brain gave up and took to analyzing absolutely everything it could.

 _I was hit by some heavy yet soft object, too big for an arrow, or any conventional weapon for that matter. I feel no excessive pain beyond the first impact. I smell smoke and blood.... and old parchment and lavender. I hear... a voice, warm and familiar but terribly urgent._

His panicking brain fought to make a conclusion for a few microseconds until he felt something slip around his head protectively, just before contact with the ground. Suddenly he was looking up, bare inches from the Professors face, her lips moving towards him at an utterly alarming, terrifying speed. But they went directly to his ear, her body pressed on top of him, strong and soft. He realized with a jolt that it was her hand cupping his head, protecting it from the impact with the ground. 

This was so far from anything that he thought could be real, he wondered if he had died from that first impact.

He forced himself to focus on what this person who looked like the Professor was saying. “-so I need to see who it was. Stay quiet, they’ll be back any moment.” 

Staying quiet wouldn’t be a problem, he thought wryly, as he could barely breathe. His heart was still beating rapidly from the fall, though now for an entirely different reason.

One thought shot like an arrow to the front of his mind. 

_Thank the Mother Goddess she’s safe._ The thought consumed him so entirely, he didn’t notice his arms instinctively sliding up from the ground, wrapping around her lower back, assuring him that she was indeed real and safe... and on top of him, for whatever reason.

Her face had pulled back from whispering to him, hand gently sliding out from under his head to support herself and gentle strands of hair tickling his neck and face, so he caught her expression change from grim and urgent to a faint surprise mixed with confusion. Instantly he realized what he was doing and instructed his arms to return to the forest floor. But, to his despair, all his shock and adrenaline-riddled limbs would do was hold her tighter. He felt a bewildering feeling of total bliss mixed with total panic. 

Her lips quirked into a small bemused smile before she lifted a hand and touched a finger to his lips ( _I’m dead, I’m definitely dead_ he thought to himself) to remind him to be quiet.

Rustles nearby caused his eyes to dart to the side. She had pushed him into a soft bush, near the back of her tent, not easily visible from the main path but close enough to hear voices growing louder.

“And you’re sure she should be dead somewhere?” An older voice, grizzled and doubtful, probably a hardened veteran. 

“Absolutely, she was practically doubled over with pain from my sword slicing her stomach open.” The second voice was younger, almost arrogant but shaking with a little fear. 

He knew what the fear was for, because he recognized the voice. The first guard who’s shift he had taken. He recalled his name, Remy. A traitor. His voice was shaking with the fear of a traitor. 

His mind had been distracted with that revelation so it took him a second to realize what Remy had actually said.

It was only with those words registering that he felt blood seeping into his shirt, roughly where her abdomen would be above him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is still a WIP, thank you everyone for the support! I finally figured out how to add italics so I went back and edited some previous chapters a little so it should be a bit more uniform now.


	6. Forbidden Jailbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and the Professor get a little too close, despite the precarious situation.

6

Felix’s heart beat rapidly as he tried not to panic. The Professor noticed his concern and tried to support herself with one hand, attempting to gesture at him that it was nothing, but accidentally causing herself to wince in the process. Giving up on that course of action, she tried to pull up her shirt but the awkward angle, supporting herself with one arm, and his arms still wrapped around her ( _traitors_ he thought irritated at himself) made this task quite impossible. Sighing quietly, she put her hand on the ground and looked at him pointedly. 

With a jolt, he realized she meant for him to pull her shirt up her waist to prove she was okay. 

His mind began to race, desperately trying to think of another quick option, anything that would help him keep his distance since it was clear he couldn’t trust his body at the moment.

After a few seconds, he had to give up, deciding that it was better to get it over with fast than waste more time. Luckily his arms obeyed him now as they slid down to her waist, allowing her to prop herself up a little higher, and his thumbs slipped under the bottom of her shirt. The feeling of her naked, cool skin under his fingers caused his breath to hitch, yet another way his body betrayed him tonight. 

Fear clutched at him and he couldn’t help checking to see if she had noticed this change in his composure. Unfortunately, this action ended up being a grave mistake. 

Because when he looked up into her light green eyes, she was right in front of him, face scarce inches away from his. 

Suddenly he realized he could feel her warm breath on his cheek, see the soft brush of her eyelashes as she looked at him, her gaze meeting his with unexpected tenderness and warmth.

He couldn’t fight it anymore, he didn’t have the willpower left. His hands on her waist, her face so near his, her body pressed on top of him... His heart melted. _Goddess, she is so beautiful._ He thought, and then the words he had been fighting for so long solidified in his mind, breaking free from the cage he had built, stronger than ever.

_I love her._

His lips parted for an instant, and with a shock he realized her lips were parted, just slightly, as well. 

The moment was abruptly dashed as she looked away for a second, almost in shame, and he felt his face flush before he recalled why he had his hands on her in the first place. 

“Stupid _idiot_ ,” he hissed quietly to himself, not noticing the wounded, guilty expression that pained the Professor’s features as she misunderstood the reason for his outburst. He had transitioned his attention to making sure this woman, _the woman he loved_ his brain nagged at him, was okay.

Gingerly and gently, he pulled her shirt up, trying to ignore the sensation of his hands skimming over her smooth body. The action exposed her abs, clenched in the effort of lifting herself up, and a fairly shallow, but long cut across her midsection. It was bleeding a little, and clearly had been bleeding a decent amount earlier, but she had been honest when she tried to let him know it wasn’t serious.

He realized she must have let Remy injure her on purpose, exaggerating the pain, to give herself an easy escape, correctly judging that Remy was too much of a coward to finish the job. Cunning and crafty, one of the many things he loved about her. 

Chiding himself mentally, he tried to muster up the energy to push that forbidden word, _love_ , out of his mind, since apparently his brain was running wild with the freedom he had accidentally given it. _I have to focus if I’m to get her, and me, out of this alive tonight,_ he reminded himself sternly.

As if to echo his sentiment, the clatter of falling dishes refocused both of their attentions to the nearby enemies and the Professor carefully and quietly rolled off of him, repositioning into a crouch. She gestured for him to do the same, both of them relaxing naturally into the comfortable battle relationship they usually held, hiding any lingering traces of the moments they had just shared.

After all, this was how they were supposed to be, he reminded himself. A general and her former pupil. Nothing more, nothing less. 

He pushed his heart once more into the jail he had built for it long ago, ignoring the pain it caused him, as he forced himself to focus on the threat this traitor and his partner posed. The jail might be weaker now but he could work on rebuilding it stronger this time. At least, he hoped so.

Life is war, anyways. What does it matter if the only thing he wanted from life wasn’t war at all. Life is war and that’s just the way it is. 

Everyone he had ever admitted to himself that he loved died anyways. She was safer this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m still working on editing this a little bit but I hope it’s enjoyable anyways! Poor Felix.


End file.
